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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29018406">Angel of the Opera</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rea_grimm/pseuds/rea_grimm'>rea_grimm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fallen Angels, Love, M/M, Magic, Possessive Behavior, Prayer, Running Away, Scars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:34:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,650</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29018406</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rea_grimm/pseuds/rea_grimm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no phantom in the French theatre. He's more of a fallen angel thrown out of heaven for his love of music. Since his fall, he has grown bitter with humans, taking them only as inferior insects to be toyed with freely at his will. That's what he thinks until he gets to know the young Viscount Raoul de Chagny.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Raoul de Chagny &amp; Christine Daaé, Raoul de Chagny &amp; Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Raoul de Chagny/Erik | Phantom of the Opera</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Angel of music</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's the late 19th century, Paris. Here is an opera house called Paris Garnier, which can boast excellent treatments of well-known performances. Their ballet is world-class, the orchestra is stunning, and of course, we must not forget their talented singers and sopranos. Among the most famous sopranos is Carlotta, whose ego is as high as her voice. This opera is owned by two directors. They're nice people who wanted to get into a better company. Their names are Armand Moncharmin and Firmin Richard. These two gentlemen are trying to bring order to a place ruled by fear of an unknown opera dweller. Even saying his name scares the employees. That fear crept into almost every heart except for a young, beautiful, talented girl named Christine Daae. She knows and admires this mysterious creature.</p><p>After all, the phantom of the opera does exist. It's a real angel who was brought down from heaven because of his love of music. Since then, he has been living underground in the opera house and "helping" the directors in its management. But his methods are not the best, but they are very effective. Nor is he afraid of violence. This solitary angel had never known love or tenderness... He was very fond of Miss Daae's talent but didn't expect anyone else to get in his way. The young Viscount Raoul de Chagny, who had loved art since his childhood and who became a new opera sponsor and resumed his old relationship with Christine.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The muffled sound of singing echoed through the opera house. This exquisite gentle voice came from underground passages that dragged beneath the entire opera house. If one chose to follow the voice, one would be in front of a large glass lake with a small house behind it. We will not state here how large it is, as looks often deceive. Inside the house is a square room whose interior is illuminated by candlelight.</p><p>There was a velvet sofa with chairs, a desk, and an elaborate organ played by a mysterious man dressed mostly in black, wearing a white porcelain mask on the right side of his face. The music he played was positively charming, and the voice of young Miss Daae, who sat beside the phantom, gave it the proper sparkle. His fingers seemed to dance on the keys.</p><p>The end of the song was near. Christine, with the help of her last powers, gave her best performance. The last note of the song died away. Exhausted, Christine looked expectantly at the phantom and waited for his assessment.</p><p>„I must say that today your voice rose to heaven itself. Keep it up,” said the phantom. Christine's face showed a slight blush. She was absolutely thrilled to finally get a commendation after all this time. Without realizing it, she was grinning from ear to ear.</p><p>„Do you agree to another hour again in two days at the same time?” the phantom asked. „You should go back so that the idiots running my opera house aren't looking for you,” he said, standing up and offering his hand.</p><p>Like a perfect gentleman, he helped her to her feet and ferried her in a black gondola, which was finely decorated with gold, to the other side of the lake, from where she had already hit the top herself. She slipped through a secret hole in the backdrop. Her angel of music was right. She's just arrived for a rehearsal of a new production of Hannibal. Within moments, she had changed into her costume and joined her close friend Meg.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Raoul attended the rehearsal. Or, rather, he watched it intently from the cubicle, which was directly opposite the cubicle with number 5. From there, he watched the whole rehearsal, unable to tear himself from Christine away. No one knew another person was watching.</p><p>Number 5 cubicle wasn't as empty as it first appeared. There sat the phantom, his eyes darting between Christine, the other examiners, and Raoul, whom, for reasons unknown, he was most interested in.</p><p>As soon as the rehearsal began to draw to a close, Raoul left his cubicle and made his way to the stage, where he waited impatiently for the end.</p><p>As the rehearsal was over, Christine noticed her old friend and ran to him.<br/>
„Raoul,” she smiled.<br/>
„You were absolutely wonderful today, little Lotte,” the Viscount said, kissing her hand.<br/>
„Raoul,...” she broke free of his arms. „I have something wonderful to tell you,” she began, changing the subject. „But not here. Follow me,” she said before Raoul could answer. She took his hand and led him to her private dressing room, closing the door.</p><p>„What is so wonderful and secret that you want to tell me?” he asked pleasantly.<br/>
„You know how my father used to tell us stories about fairies and elves and especially the angel of music?”<br/>
„I remember every one of them. Word by word.”<br/>
„Raoul, I met the Angel of Music. He's real, just like you and me. And he teaches me to sing. He's the one who helped me sing now.”<br/>
„Christine...” he had no idea how to answer correctly. He didn't want to hurt her, seeing her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. „Christine, the angel of music is not real, though I believe she or he is a very talented person.”<br/>
„But he's a real angel,” she tried to convince him.<br/>
„There are no angels. They're just stories for little kids.”<br/>
„But...” tears came to her eyes. She didn't want to hear any more nasty words about her angel. She wiped tears on the sleeve of her gown and ran. Raoul just stood there unable to stop her.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Christine ran straight to the lake house. At least to the shore of the dark lake. Still, with tears in her eyes, she looked around, trying to figure out how to contact the phantom when a hand was placed on her shoulder. She had barely suppressed a scream when she turned in surprise and saw the phantom staring at her grimly.</p><p>„What happened?” he asked gently, and the sopranist threw herself into his arms in tears.<br/>
„They don't believe you're a real angel,” she sobbed.<br/>
„Who?”<br/>
„Raoul.”<br/>
„It doesn't matter,” he sighed, stroking her back.<br/>
„But I do,” she said, wiping away tears.</p><p>„Could I see them again?” she asked diffidently when she had finally regained her composure.<br/>
„Only because it's you,” he replied with a sigh, stepping back a little. He took a deep breath, and suddenly two huge wings appeared from his back. But each was different. The left-wing was covered in fine, pearly feathers, while the right was grey, sometimes bare of fallen feathers. All this when he was banished from heaven and fell to earth. The heat from the fall burned his wing grey, and the impact of the ground broke his wing in several parts.<br/>
„They're beautiful,” Christine marvelled, just as she had when she first saw them.</p><p>“Could I ask you one more favour?" she asked hesitantly. „Can I introduce you to Raoul? I'm sure he'd believe me then.” The phantom thought for a moment, but it was a good opportunity to meet him closer without causing much suspicion. Eventually, he agreed, and he and Daae went to the opera.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raoul was found walking on stage with a dejected expression.<br/>
</span>
  <span>„</span>
  <span>Raoul!” Christine called out. The Viscount immediately turned, relieved that she had been all right. </span>
  <span>„</span>
  <span>Raoul, I want you to meet someone,” she said with a slight smile. </span>
  <span>„</span>
  <span>Raoul, this is Eric. Eric, this is Raoul,” she introduced them, and the two men shook hands. </span>
  <span>„</span>
  <span>Eric is the angel of music I told you about. He's a real angel.”<br/>
</span>
  <span>„</span>
  <span>Christine, I see an ordinary man here.” The phantom frowned at his answer, wanting to intervene when Christine stepped in again.<br/>
</span>
  <span>„</span>
  <span>I saw his wings.”<br/>
</span>
  <span>„</span>
  <span>God knows what you've seen.” This conversation irritated Raoul, and he wanted to continue it in private. </span>
  <span>„</span>
  <span>It was a </span>
  <span>pleasure</span>
  <span> to meet you. I'm sure you're a very talented and respected man, but right now I'd like to discuss something with Christine in private,” he said glumly to Eric, grabbing </span>
  <span>her</span>
  <span> wrist and walking away with her into her dressing room.</span>
</p><p>„Could you tell me what that was all about?” Christine began.<br/>
„That you believe everything anyone says. There are no angels, and he looks exactly like the description of this opera's supposed phantom.”<br/>
„How can you say something so horrible?”<br/>
„Because unlike you, I live in reality. And there's no such thing as angels in real life!”<br/>
„Enough!” she shouted, slapping him across the face and walking away.</p><p>Raoul merely sat up wearily. That was the first time he had argued with anyone. He still didn't think angels existed, but as he thought about what had happened today, he had to admit there was something special about Eric. Something he couldn't describe. Something that made him wonder about Eric.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Angel of hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ever since Raoul's fight with Christine, he's been haunted almost constantly by feelings of anxiety. At least when he was at the opera. Walking through the corridors, he felt as if he were being watched. Occasionally he would stop suddenly and turn around. He was trying to expose his stalker, but every time he turned around, there was no one there. He was getting paranoid and trying not to show it at the same time. He knew what it would do to the de Chagny family's reputation. He didn't even tell Christine about it. He suspected that she would tell him that it must be some character in the fairy tales her father had told them.</p><p>He kept walking when he heard footsteps behind him again, and this time a mysterious melody hummed by his stalker. He picked up his pace immediately. This time he heard a dark chuckle behind him, in addition to the melody. Without looking back, he stepped out of the corridor and spotted a familiar door. He walked over to them, tapped them lightly, and, without waiting for an answer, squeezed through the crack.</p><p>„Raoul,” Christine said in surprise.<br/>„Little Lotte, you look amazing. Like the real star of the evening,” he smiled pleasantly at her, wiping the faint sweat from his forehead with his hand.<br/>„I'm so nervous.”<br/>„I believe you. You'll be amazing. I didn't expect Carlotta to give you the part in the first place.”<br/>„Neither did I,” she smiled enthusiastically.<br/>„I'm sure you'll be fantastic. I'll cheer you on from my box,” he said, kissing the knuckles of her fingers.<br/>„Think of me and wish me luck,” she smiled, a faint flush on her cheeks, and left the dressing room.</p><p> </p><p>Raoul stood up and carefully examined the frame of the mirror, for the glass had indeed disappeared. He went through the frame and took the first torches that illuminated the cold stone corridor, at the bottom of which the aforementioned mist rolled. Slowly, he moved deeper into the heart of the corridors, and the deeper he went, the more intense the music became. He felt as if he were in a strange dream.</p><p>Without knowing how he got out of the tangle of corridors and found himself on the edge of a dark lake inside a cold cave. Water soaked his shoes. He had no idea how he got there. Disoriented, he looked around and saw a small black gondola.</p><p>He started to walk toward it when a black-gloved hand gripped his wrist from behind. He whirled around and faced the Phantom of the Opera. The phantasm in question sang the words to that mysterious music, his eyes gleaming with gold. Raoul couldn't take his eyes off them. He felt as if his music was absorbing him completely.</p><p>Eric smiled during his singing, having seen the Viscount give in completely. As soon as he knew it was wrapped around his finger, he grabbed his arm and laced his fingers with it. He was very happy about it for unknown reasons. Perhaps it was the human contact he had been denied for so long. He continued to sing, leading the young man back into the bowels of the opera. He led the way down a narrow corridor before they came to a high, spiral staircase. Together they climbed the stairs, which appeared to be infinitely high. Eric continued to sing, occasionally checking the dazed viscount with a smile. That was the power of his voice.</p><p> </p><p>When they finally reached the very top, with an ornate wooden door blocking their way. The phantom stopped singing and put his hand on the doorknob. He took one last look at Raoul, who was watching him helplessly, a gentle smile spreading across his face. He had no idea anyone could be so cute. The viscount's expression reminded him of that of a small puppy. He cleared his throat slightly and began to sing again. This time he chose an entirely different tune.</p><p>„Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation...” as he sang, he opened the door and the two men were bathed in the golden light of a crystal chandelier. Once through the door, they found themselves on a small balcony at the highest point inside the opera house. There was a magnificent view of the stage where the performance was being performed. Eric led Raoul to the railing, where two wine glasses and a bottle were prepared.</p><p>„You alone can make my song take flight. Help me make the music of the night,” he finished tenderly, spilling the wine into glasses and handing one to the Viscount. He took it and tapped it with Eric. He was about to drink, his glass almost to his lips when he heard a familiar voice from below. As if he had come partially out of his trance, he set his glass aside and leaned over the railing for a better view. For Christine arrived on the scene and began her lovely aria. A proud smile spread across Raoul's face and he couldn't take his eyes off it. He was so absorbed in the performance that he forgot all about the phantom.</p><p>But he stood there, watching the whole thing. He clutched his glass. He was seething. This wasn't supposed to happen. His plan was perfect. He drank his wine in one sip, holding the glass so tightly it cracked in his hand. Irritated, he tossed the broken glass aside, not caring that for a moment he startled half the opera. He growled, gritted his teeth, muttered something quickly, and disappeared like steam over a pot.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as the show was over, the curtain closed and applause flooded the room. By this time the young man had completely regained his senses and looked around. He had no idea how he got here. When he tried to remember, he felt as if everything was covered in thick fog. Only now did he notice that he had a wine glass laid beside him. He took it in his hand, smelled it, and drank it. He had to admit that whoever poured it for him had excellent taste. He replaced the glass and turned to the door, where shards of the phantom's wrath lay scattered.</p><p>„What the hell happened here?” he muttered and started up the stairs. Once clear of the intricate tangle of corridors, he headed immediately for Christine. He had to congratulate her on an amazing performance. She was delighted, too, until there were tears in her eyes and a smile adorned her face from ear to ear. Almost everyone in the opera house celebrated their success and went back to their normal lives without anyone noticing the sombre and very aggressive organ melody coming from the heart of the opera.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Angel of Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raoul was a regular at the theatre. He didn't miss a single performance of Christine's. He was completely taken with her. He was really upset that his sweetheart was still visiting the strange phantom. They even asked him to participate in several of their training sessions. He had to admit that the phantom had talent and was a great help to Christine, but even so, he hadn't grown attached to his heart. Something about him was telling him that he wasn't normal, but he had no idea what. Moreover, he felt he had been a bad influence on Christine at the same time.</p><p>However, this phantom did not influence how he felt about his old girlfriend. He had these feelings in him since they were little, and Christina's father told them fairy tales. He weighed a small box in his pocket in which he hid his surprise. He couldn't say that the act he was planning to do would be rash. He thought about it for a long time and even discussed it with his brother. He only wanted the best for Raoul and would support him at all costs.</p><p>Now he watched the premiere of a new show starring Christine. She was absolutely breathtaking. Smiling confidently, he mulled over his plan. Just before the end of the show, he left his box and headed for his sweetheart's dressing room. He had a giant bouquet ready to go, saying in his own tongue how much he cared for her. He had lilacs, camellias, red roses, several asters, and gardenias to declare his love. Fialls, camellias and poppies. What he didn't know was that he was being watched by certain eyes who knew the meaning of those words and didn't much like it.</p><p>As soon as Christine finished her performance, she ran from her fans to her dressing room. She always had her sanctuary there. But what she didn't expect was Raoul.</p><p>„Raoul,” she smiled pleasantly at him, throwing her arms around his neck. Even now, she thought of him more like her younger brother.<br/>„You were absolutely charming today, little Lotte,” he replied, spinning her around. Once her feet were firmly on the ground again, her gaze fell on the giant bouquet. The language of the flowers didn't mean much to her, but the sight of them was absolutely amazing. She was fully demonstrating her enthusiasm. She walked over and immediately sniffed them. As she studied them, she noticed a small name tag.</p><p>„Raoul, you didn't have to do that,” she melted completely underneath.<br/>„Only the best for you,” he smiled, moving closer to her. The girl looked at the flowers again and studied them again. The viscount, meanwhile, had plenty of time to move closer to the singer and dropped to one knee. He took a box from his back pocket and finally cleared his throat. Christine turned and stopped. She had no idea how to react to such a thing. Finally, she smiled and asked what he meant.</p><p>„My little Lotte… Christine... I've had feelings for you for a long time. Something strong and I would like to propose to you with this," he said with complete honesty.</p><p>Christine covered her face with her hands. She hadn't expected this and especially didn't know how to answer it. She didn't want to ruin her relationship with Raoul, but she also couldn't say yes to him. She didn't feel that way. That would be bad.</p><p>„Raoul,” she said, taking him by the hand in which he held the ring and close it. „It's very kind of you, but I can't marry you,” choosing her words carefully, not wanting to hurt him. "You are like a brother to me. Part of the family...” and she helped him to his feet.</p><p>„Christine...” his voice broke. He tried to persuade her, but she kept going.<br/>„The ring is beautiful, but I'm not the one. You should save it for someone else,” she said tearfully, before kissing him on the cheek. Then she looked at him with such pity, before running out of her dressing room with tears in her eyes.</p><p>Raoul stood there for a few more minutes, rooted to the ground, wondering what he had done wrong. His heart ached incredibly. He examined the ring and finally put it back in its box. He had thought Christine was the one all along. Now he had no idea what to do.</p><p>Eric watched the whole performance through the false glass in the mirror, furious. How someone so ordinary wanted to claim his Christine. Besides, this wasn't according to his script. It happened outside his power. And he had power over everything that went on in his opera. Especially since he had his own plans for Raoul and Christine. Gritting his teeth, he walked back into the tangle of corridors. The whole opera will soon know what his anger tastes like.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Over the next day, Eric left all sorts of pitfalls and threats all over the foothold, but they seemed to be ignored. The directors of the theatre merely laughed at this, and that was all. This made the phantom even angrier. First Raoul and now ignoring? He's not going to let this go.</p><p>That's why the next premiere presented him with the perfect opportunity for his revenge. It was well past the halfway point of the first act when he noticed one of the workers adjusting something above the stage. The worker was older now and was plagued by an excruciating cough that only disturbed the singers during the performance. So he decided to help him get away from the disease. In perfect motion, he wrapped a noose around his neck and threw him on to the stage. The deceased stopped three feet above the heads of those involved and caused a tremendous stir. The audience screamed in fear, and even the police were called to the opera. But no one found anything.</p><p>And while he thought he'd ruined the theatre all day, he couldn't be more wrong. Once things had sort of calmed down and the deceased was removed from the theatre, the directors decided to continue the show. People were distrustful at first, but they stayed. After all, they've paid for the show and won't leave until they see it through.</p><p>That was the final straw. He had to show them who was boss. So he planned carefully. The following day, during the next performance, he left a note for Raoul to visit him in bed 5. No one was allowed there except the phantom, but he made an exception this time.</p><p> </p><p>This time everything went according to his plan. During the performance, Eric went to the box to see Raoul. He enjoyed the show and was completely oblivious. The phantom took advantage, grabbing him by the throat from behind. The Viscount straightened and waited for his next move.</p><p>„To what do I owe this invitation?” the young man asked neutrally.<br/>„That admission of yours was quite surprising... I don't like surprises,” he growled in a melodic voice.<br/>„Not my problem,” he replied lightly.<br/>„It's a problem if it involves Miss Daae or my theatre,” and he loosened his grip slightly.<br/>„I don't know what you mean. She turned me down anyway,” he said irritably, starting to get up. But the phantom pushed him back into his seat.</p><p>„...you denied me and betrayed me... you'll curse the day you didn't do everything he asked of you!” his voice turned muffled so no one else could hear him. Raoul was mesmerized by him. Such was his voice's power. Plus, his voice could evoke certain emotions in people, depending on how convenient it was for him. Now he planned to instil fear of him in the Viscount. Such fear that he will not attempt anything like this again.</p><p>„...Say you will share with me one love, one life, and I will follow. Say you need me with you now and forever promise me that all you say is true that is all I ask of you...” he finished his song, making sure the Viscount would not hear the last two sentences.</p><p>After that, he vanished into thin air. Now just the final step of his revenge. Quickly and noiselessly, he crept backstage to where the chandelier rope was secured. He walked over to that exact line and waited for the right moment. As the singer sang the highest note that would have cracked the glass, he loosened the rope and let the chandelier fall into the audience. He was sure he had hit someone in the process. He smiled with satisfaction as the opera was filled with horrifying screams. This was his revenge.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Lost Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Phantom had stopped more often to see Raoul since the chandelier incident. He threatened him, and at the same time, it sometimes seemed as if he wanted something else from him. One day he threatens him, the next he brings him a bouquet. Eric was always on Raoul's heels, slowly driving him mad.</p><p>One day the Viscount had just about enough. He liked the theatre, but he didn't feel like meeting a phantom. Instead, he stayed in bed for a long time and then went to make coffee. There was no one else in his family at home. Except for his older brother Philippe, that is.</p><p>„Is something bothering you<span>, petit frère</span>?” asked Philippe. He was always there for him. „Something about Christine?” he continued, as Raoul gave him only a tired look.</p><p>„No... it's something else...” he sighed, sipping his coffee.<br/>„You can tell me,” and sat down across from him.</p><p>„Just something with the theatre... I guess I spent too much time there. Especially after rejection ... I guess I need a break from city life,” he replied. He didn't want his brother to worry about him unnecessarily. Or to do some bad things with opera or a phantom. It could affect absolutely everything he cared about.</p><p>„I understand. You can use my winter cabin if you want. You'll have peace there. No one will bother you there, you'll have peace of mind and quiet,” he suggested. He liked his cabin. There was a nice view, and it was far from the village, so you were alone with your thoughts.</p><p>„Sounds good,” he said.<br/>„I think it will be just right for you. Depends if you're looking for an escape,” he shrugged.<br/>„Will you help me pack?” he asked, taking a drink. Philippe merely chuckled.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>After breakfast, Raoul decided to go to the opera. Not wanting to appear suspicious, he drifted into his daily role. Like every day before, he first went to see Christine, then went through the theatre, occasionally had a few words with someone, then watched the show and then went to congratulate Christine. His expression was quite normal.</p><p>Finally, he said goodbye to her, as if he were going to see her again tomorrow. But he hadn't run into Eric once all day, and he was glad of that with all his heart. He feared he could get the truth out of him, no matter what. Finally, he went to the principal. He must have said something. But he was very careful, so he merely told them that from now on he would donate money through an envelope. The two men agreed with him.</p><p>Eric, of course, had been watching him all along. He was pleased with the way the Viscount behaved. Like a scared little puppy. That's right. He reminded him very often of a little puppy who was just discovering the world and all about him was innocence itself.</p><p>When Raoul returned home from his trip to the opera, he had his things ready to go. Philippe packed him only the essentials.</p><p>„I let a friend know. She looks after the cabin all the time and will go there to clean. So don't be alarmed that there's a strange woman in there,” his brother told him, handing over the keys.<br/>„Very funny,” Raoul sneered.<br/>„I'm just worried about my<span> petit frère</span>,” he laughed, patting him on the shoulder. They parted afterwards, and Raoul took a carriage to the countryside, far from Paris.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>His carriage took him to a picturesque village in a mountain valley. There was nothing else for miles. Brother's cottage was a few extra miles from the village. The cottage had foundations of stone and the rest of the walls of wood. It was small but cosy. There wasn't much furniture inside. Basic equipment only.</p><p>Raoul began to explore and then unpack. He didn't have much himself, so it wasn't a very difficult task. About an hour later, there was a knock at his door. The Viscount went to open it. An elderly lady in a dark green dress and white apron stood outside the door. She was still wearing the coat that sheltered her from the cold wind. Her hair was grey with age, her face framed by glasses, but her eyes were still full of life.</p><p>„<span>Bonjour</span>, can I help you?” the young man asked.<br/>„<span>Bonjour</span>, you must be Philippe's brother. Raoul, right? Your brother wrote to me. I'm Madeleine de Ferrer, I take care of the cabin when there's no one here,” she said.<br/>„Pleasure to meet you, Madame de Ferrer. I'm Raoul de Chagny. Please come in,” he said, though she already knew him and invited her to the cabin.<br/>„Please, Madeleine for you. Philippe wrote to me to keep an eye on you. That's why I'll see you more often now. He says you need some time to yourself. I'll clean up, bring you food and supplies from the city,” she smiled pleasantly.</p><p>„It's all right, Madeleine. I would like to become independent and learn to do these things myself,” he said politely.<br/>„All right, but I'll still bring you supplies and control you,” she replied stubbornly. She paced the room, checking that everything was in order.</p><p>“I assure you. Although, perhaps you could give me some advice on how to take care of things here,” he smiled, thinking it would please Madeleine.<br/>„I'm glad you suggested it. At least I won't have to freak out at night if you're all right,” she laughed heartily and walked over to the table where the two of them sat. Madame subsequently advised him on what to do and how, and even wrote him some recipes that were easy to prepare.</p><p>They chatted there for a while before Madame got up.</p><p>„I've got to go. It's a long way to the village, and it's best not to go out after dark. We are in the wilderness after all, though no one has been harmed here,” she informed him, walking to the door. Raoul went to see her off.</p><p>„I'll check on you once every two days. Does that suit you?” she asked.<br/>„Absolutely. Very nice to meet you. Just be careful,” the Viscount replied.<br/>„That's what I should be telling you. Wilderness isn't really a place for city boys. Well, adieu for now,” she said with a laugh.<br/>„Adieu,” Raoul replied before closing the door behind her.</p><p>He then sat down on a sofa in front of a fire-crackling fireplace. It was pleasantly warm and comforting. He relaxed and stared. As he rested, his thoughts fled to the phantom. Part of Eric reminded him of fire. When he heard him sing, his voice was as warm and soothing as fire. But, like this element, the phantasm was inscrutable and dangerous. He had been burned on many occasions, and his threats were the last straw. He was glad for what he had done. Slowly he lost himself in thought, his eyelids growing heavier by the moment. Finally, he fell asleep on the sofa in front of a slowly dying fire.</p><p>
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</p><p>During the next few days that Raoul spent in the countryside, far from the phantom's reach. He grew more independent every day, gaining new experiences. He gardened a little, getting better at cooking, though it was no match for their home cook. He used to chop wood, go hiking, that sort of thing. Despite all this being new to him, he handled it well and thought about finding his own cabin somewhere alone.</p><p>The Vicomte's absence from the theatre didn't cause much of a stir. In fact, there were probably only two people wondering about his strange disappearance.</p><p>Christine, who feared Raoul had been in an accident or perhaps taken ill. She had known him since he was a baby, and he would always somehow let her know if anything happened to him. That's why she was worried about him. It kind of rubbed off on her because she was distracted, always thinking somewhere else. Though her thoughts had been elsewhere. But now she was thinking of Raoul.</p><p>Even Eric wondered what had become of the Viscount. It was unusual for him not to show up for so long. He'd understand if he didn't show up for a day or two, but a whole week? He thought about it for a moment before coming to a conclusion. He was delighted and smiled triumphantly. He must have scared the crap from him. Not to death, exactly, but enough to leave his theatre and Christine alone.</p><p>The phantom looked at the clock. It was time for his regular workout with Christine. Maybe she'll know more. Smiling with satisfaction, he got up and walked to his appointed seat.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Anger of an angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's been about three weeks since Raoul moved to the countryside. For the first week, the phantom was happy, thinking he had frightened him and taught him a lesson. Week two, he was getting suspicious. Maybe he scared him too much? No. He dismissed the idea immediately. As he remembered the Viscount, he wouldn't have frightened him for such a time. And he wouldn't have survived this long without Christine. At least according to Eric.</p><p>By the middle of the third week, his absence had become impatient. His thoughts returned more often to Raoul. To his hair, his eyes and his smile. He would never admit it, but this little man had somehow grown attached to his heart and he missed him. He wanted him with him.</p><p>The theatre was having a day off and he decided to use it for research. To his own quest for the Viscount. He got out of the theatre through a back door. He also wore a larger black hat to keep his face less visible. The mask was on his face, but it would still have attracted attention. Who would just walk around Paris in a porcelain mask?</p><p>He strolled around Paris, keeping to the shadows. His footsteps led him to the house where the Viscount lived. He was passing by just as he could see a cab drive away from the house. This was his chance to find out what had happened to Raoul. If he was sick, he would find him in bed. If he's scared, he'll have some fun. Although, he could hypnotize him a little bit and finally kiss him. He had wanted to try it for a long time. People used to do it all the time. Moreover, the Viscount's lips seemed so pretty pink and soft. Just yummy...</p><p>He shook his head, concentrating on his current goal. Find out what happened to Raoul. He circled the house and found a back entrance that wasn't guarded and couldn't be seen from the street. The door was locked, of course, but it was no obstacle to his inhuman strength. One push more on the handle and they gave way. He quietly searched the entire lower level before climbing the stairs. There he finally found the room that belonged to Raoul. He could tell by the classic clothes he wore to the theatre regularly and the brooch Christine had given him.</p><p>The Viscount's room was small and neatly tidy. It was too clean. It didn't look like anyone lived here at all. He went to the closet. There was no dust on it, so the room was cleaned regularly. He opened the closet and began to explore. He noticed that clothing was missing. Several hangers were empty. As it was, he searched the room and found there wasn't much, but some things were missing.</p><p>„Where are you hiding? What are you planning?” he growled under his nose. Slowly, he grew angry, which eventually consumed him. He took one of the drawers and ripped it out and threw it on the ground. Various documents flooded the room. But he didn't care. He was looking for any sign of the Viscount. But as he was careless in the heat of his anger, he made unnecessarily loud noises, and suddenly there were footsteps toward him.</p><p>Eric, alert, dropped one of the documents and rushed to the window. He opened it and jumped out. He hit the ground gracefully and ducked around a corner. He peered out a little and noticed the man in the room he'd jumped out of. The man just looked out the window, and Eric had a better view of him. The man was older than Raoul and had a small moustache. But otherwise, he looked like a viscount's imitation. Probably a relative. Maybe a brother. It couldn't have been the father, with Christine telling him how Raoul's parents had both died in accidents.</p><p>The Phantom thought of asking his brother, a close family would know where Raoul had been. But then he decided it was best if as few people as possible knew about him. The Viscount's brother could call the police on him and he would have to find a new home again. That would be too much work and worry.</p><p>He then crept through the shadows to his home. There he wanted to clear his head by playing the organ, but every time he relaxed and let the music take over, a picture of the Viscount came to mind. His beloved music didn't help him now, and he was irritated. He looked at the clock. He was supposed to have a session with Christine in an hour, but he wasn't looking forward to it today.</p><p>
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</p><p>The hour passed like nothing, and Christine was looking forward to her training. She was preparing to go through the mirror when the mirror just mentioned opened and Eric walked through it.</p><p>„Eric,” she said, both surprised and gentle.<br/>„Class dismissed,” he replied roughly without explanation.<br/>„Is something wrong?” she asked apprehensively. She had never seen him like this.</p><p>„Where's de Chagny?” he went straight to the point.<br/>„Raoul? I haven't seen him in over three weeks. I don't know. I haven't heard from him. And Philippe tells me nothing. Even as if he were avoiding me,” she replied despondently. She was worried about him.<br/>„You're lying,” he replied on the hunt, a glint of gold in his eyes.</p><p>„I'm not. I don't know. The last time he was here he acted like nothing and then never came back. I swear!” she replied, her voice shaking. She has never seen him like this, but from her father's tales, she can imagine what an angry angel is capable of.</p><p>„Tell me the truth!” he commanded, and this time his eyes lit up with gold and wings appeared on his back. One was beautifully white, while the other was crippled with grey feathers. In some places, the extra feathers had fallen out, exposing only the stump. Christine covered her face with her hands. Her heart was so fast, it almost jumped. She was shaking.</p><p>„You really don't know,” he said, more calmly, noting her reaction. No one could lie to his angelic gaze. Eric straightened up and made everything angelic about him disappear. „Go home and rest. And not a word about this to anyone. Is that clear?” he asked her sternly. Christine merely nodded her head in agreement.</p><p>
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</p><p>Eric was done with her. He left her dressing room and headed straight for Madame Giry. Madame Giry knew the theatre's gossip. She knew what, who, how, and with whom. He watched her for a few hours, hoping to learn something interesting or important. He was interested in any mention of Raoul, but Madame Giry only discussed with everyone how handsome he was and how no one knew where he had gone. She was even betting with a ballerina to see if he had gone to see a lady. But Eric knew that wasn't the case.</p><p>When he had had enough of her gossip, which didn't help him anyway, he decided to contact the directors themselves. Surely the two clowns must have known where their favourite and the most generous sponsor was. He went back to his house under the theatre and wrote them a letter. The letter was full of threats. When he had finished, he folded it and sealed it with wax bearing his seal. He was partial to that sort of thing. At least they would know immediately who the letter had come from.</p><p>He left the letter to the directors in their study. He knew they would find him and so it was only a matter of time before they told him where the Viscount was. He just had to be patient.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Fallen Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eric was resting in his house in a giant canopied bed. He lay on the bed with his eyes closed, his mask resting on the table beside the bed, thinking. All sorts of thoughts raced through his mind, but mostly memories of Raoul. For example, how he first saw him through a secret door.</p><p>He had to admit that at first, he thought he was an ordinary man with boyish dreams and a childlike mind about the world. He remembered it perfectly. His shoulder-length hair, his blue eyes that reminded him of a lost home. His smile, which he always gave to Christine. The smile warmed his heart, even though he knew it wasn't for him. No one had ever smiled at him like that. Wherever he was, heaven or earth, he was always an outcast. He didn't fit in anywhere and probably won't fit in anywhere.</p><p>At first, he tried to win Christine's affection. That was a relatively easy task. In fact, she gave herself to him willingly. But he suddenly discovered she wasn't the one. Her affection was pleasant, but it wasn't right. He had to keep looking. He never thought he'd need a Viscount. He didn't see anything special in him. An ordinary boy with naive ideas. What he didn't know was that Christine would introduce them and he would gradually demand his attention.</p><p>It started with surveillance and the occasional small gift. Unfortunately, the Viscount thought the gifts were for Christine. Subsequently, he didn't care how much attention she got from him. In the beginning, he tried to win him over with a positive attitude, but it's easier to threaten people, oppress them, and wrap them around his finger with violence. That's what he thought worked for Raoul, but he was wrong. He didn't want him to disappear.</p><p>True, he was angry with the Viscount when he proposed to Christine. He wasn't angry because he would have loved Christine, for example. Oh, no. He was angry because he had feelings for Raoul. He didn't know what yet, but he needed to have him free. Not tied to someone else. Maybe it best if he was tied to him, but that's not going to happen. Not with the looks the Viscount almost always gave him. Views filled with scorn, scepticism, and caution. He didn't trust him, and he made that clear.</p><p>The Phantom sighed. For some unknown reason, it weighed heavily on his chest, and he might as well have compared the sensation to his fall. When he was kicked out of the sky, he also lost some of his heart. It hurt him at first, having lost angels he thought of as family and friends, but they were common traitors. Not him.</p><p>His thoughts drifted back to Raoul. He couldn't be dead. That was out of the question. Not even sick. He had the hospitals and everything in the area checked out. He must have escaped that way. So there was still a chance for him. A chance to win him over and make him come back for himself. But he shouldn't be in such a hurry to find it. He finds him first, then brings him back to the opera, then makes him feel for him what he felt for him. Whether the Viscount wants it or not.</p><p>After all, hope is the last to die, so Eric, too, decided not to give up his goal. If he ever gave up, he wouldn't have his own opera and creepy reputation, would he? Today, however, he did not have the strength. He closed his eyes and carefully laid out a plan of his next steps in his mind. Surely someone must know where Raoul was. Moreover, the directors didn't complain that they were short of money, or that the Viscount had abandoned them. He was sure he still pays them. That was his lead.</p><p>For the next few days, he waited outside the office of the directors, where Madame Giry regularly delivered daily mail. He must have known he wouldn't come across the letter on the first day and that he had to be patient, but by the end, he was getting tired of it. But in the end, his diligence paid off, for it was a week or so before he finally stumbled upon what he was looking for.</p><p>As soon as Madame Giry brought the letters to the office, he broke in and examined them. Under a few ordinary letters, he found one with slightly familiar writing. Or rather, the kind of writing he hadn't seen in a while. Eagerly, he opened the letter and examined it. He didn't even have to read it because there was a signature underneath. The proof he needed. So Raoul really did run.</p><p>But not for long, he thought. He quickly read the letter and examined it for further clues. He didn't want to involve other people in his problem, like the mailman and the like. Fortunately, he was able to find what he needed. On the second page was a return address for emergencies.</p><p>The phantom memorized the address and returned to his house, where he kept a map of France in the library. He had to admit that the Viscount had come a long way and he would have to give up the safety of his opera for a few days. What he wouldn't do for Raoul. He needed it with him, and that was all he cared about now.</p><p>
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</p><p>Raoul liked being alone. He had time for his thoughts, for discovering new things and becoming independent. He was just outside fixing the fence when the wind began to pick up. That happened here sometimes, so he wasn't concerned. He rested for a while, sat on a wooden bench and enjoyed the view.</p><p>In the distance, he saw a small figure looming. The figure approached him, and after a moment he could make out a green dress with an apron. He didn't even realize Madeleine was going to see him today.</p><p>The viscount stood and went to meet her. The old woman was carrying a basket full of supplies. He went to help her.</p><p>„Bonjour Madeleine. Let me help you,” he offered, taking the basket from her. It was much heavier than he looked.<br/>„Bonjour, how are you today?” the old woman asked, inviting herself in.</p><p>„Good. It's like a fairy tale in here,” he replied.<br/>„I'm glad, but I'm worried. Storm's coming. It's not uncommon, but it can be very difficult for someone like you,” she began, taking out the supplies. This time she brought a lot more. She then checked his wood supply. He should overcome the storm with that.</p><p>„Do you think I'm ready enough?” he asked.<br/>„Such a storm is not to be underestimated. Shouldn't I have brought you extra food instead?” she began to worry.<br/>„Don't worry. I can take care of myself.”</p><p>„Suit yourself. Unfortunately, I couldn't reach you during the storm. I'm worried about you,” and took his hand. Raoul had a long time to reassure her. Finally, Madeleine said goodbye, gave him some more advice and left.</p><p>Hours after she left, it began to rain. A small rain became a giant downpour, with no one to see for three feet. the surrounding area also got colder, and Raoul had to make a fire. He also used the opportunity to try out a new recipe Madeleine had written for him. It was a simple vegetable soup. He put all the ingredients in a pot and let it cook. He felt very good about it. By the time his dish was ready, he had decided to shorten his wait with a book.</p><p>In a nearby village, all the windows were shut tight and there was no one outside. No one would dare come out in this weather. No one except a black figure who stalked the streets like a ghost, walking slowly but steadily away from the city. Towards a secluded cottage on top of a hill. Shadow had trouble climbing up because there was no road. Just mud that didn't make the trip any easier.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Selfish angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raoul had finished his soup, put it in a bowl, and was about to taste his handiwork when, for reasons unknown, anxiety washed over him. Like something bad was coming. He shuddered and was about to taste it when someone knocked on the door. He put down his spoon and walked to the door.</p><p>Who could it possibly be in the rain outside? Who would be that stupid? What if it was a man who was lost outside and didn't make it back to the village? He adjusted his shirt and pulled the handle. As soon as he saw whoever was behind the door, he immediately tried to close it. But the phantom was quicker and stopped him.</p><p>„Oh, that's not how old friends are greeted,” said Eric. He enjoyed his little hunt.<br/>„We're not friends,” he snapped, putting more strength into closing, but in vain. It's like he's trying to move a mountain.<br/>„You wouldn't leave me in this terrible rain,” he exaggerated.<br/>„Then you shouldn't have left the opera.”<br/>„You shouldn't have left it first,” he growled, forcing his way inside. Raoul had no choice but to close the door after him.</p><p>Eric removed his cloak and laid it by the fireplace to dry. He examined the interior carefully. Simple country style. For him, too far from a source of music, though if he wanted to, he could buy a piano here. His home was under the opera, after all, along with his organ. Subsequently, as if he owned the place, he sat down at the table and stirred the soup with a spoon. It didn't look very inviting to his taste.</p><p>Raoul, meanwhile, went to the fireplace and poked it with the poker. But he didn't take his eyes off the phantom. The phantom, meanwhile, tasted the soup. Unfortunately, it was a mistake, he spoiled his appetite completely. He didn't eat anything that bad. Disgusted, he tossed the spoon back into the bowl.</p><p>„What kind of soup is that? Did someone cook for you? I have a feeling that they wanted to poison you,” he said, wiping his mouth on a napkin.<br/>„I did that,” he replied.<br/>„That's the worst thing I've eaten,” he could not imagine the Viscount cooking anything. Although according to the result…<br/>„Then go back to the opera and have something else. Something better,” he retorted boldly, tightening his grip on the poker handle. Its other end was red hot.<br/>„That's what I plan to do...” and he rose from the table „...but I'm not going back alone,” and walked slowly toward the Viscount.</p><p>As soon as he got close enough, Raoul assumed a fighting stance and lunged with the poker at Erik. But he was not at all surprised. He simply took a step backwards and snatched the poker from his hand with skilled movements. Now he had the weapon, and Raoul, as at the beginning, was helpless.</p><p>Erik took his hand with one hand, pulled it close to him, and for a moment placed the poker on Raoul's palm. It hissed in pain and couldn't wriggle away from him. Erik removed the poker and looked at the small burn he had left. At least this way the man will remember not to struggle in the future.</p><p>The Viscount glared at him, holding his hand. He wanted to sneak past him and get somewhere. Treat my hand and forget about it. But he did not get that chance, for the phantasm took him by the throat and pressed him against the wall. Raoul was trapped.</p><p>„What do you want?” he asked. He wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. He didn't know him at all. First, she threatens him, and then when she gets out of the way she stalks him? That didn't make any sense to him.</p><p>„I want you to come back to the opera with me,” he replied.<br/>„And why should I? You made it clear to me last time to get out of your way,” he retorted.<br/>„You misunderstood me last time,” and leaned closer. „I had something else in mind,” he whispered. Raoul felt his hot breath on his ear.</p><p>„And what did you have in mind?” he asked, less defiantly. Erik took his hand off his neck, took his burned hand and kissed it on the wound. Raoul was at a loss for words.<br/>„You'll find out soon enough,” he said seductively.<br/>„What if I refuse?” and wriggled out of his grasp.<br/>„Then I'll have no choice but to make you.”<br/>„Like what?”</p><p>„You know, everybody has their ways. There's always a nicer way or a more painful way,” Raoul was silent, so Erik continued. „You know, poor Christine. She's been so worried about you all along. It would be a shame if something happened to her. Or to your brother… “</p><p>„Are you threatening me?”<br/>„Only a little. But then again, I can be very generous.”<br/>„I guess I have no choice, do I?” he asked, defeated.<br/>„Clever boy,” said the phantom, kissing his forehead.</p><p>„But what about the storm?”<br/>„You don't have to worry about that,” he replied mysteriously, walking over to the table. He took out the paper and began to write. He knew Raoul had been checked, so he needed reassurance that all was well.</p><p>Within the next few minutes, as the Viscount packed up his essentials, they were ready to leave. Eric had his horse ready outside, and Raoul planned to hide in his cloak, which was waterproof. He wasn't going to risk getting caught.</p><p>
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</p><p>A day later, when the storm had finally passed, Madeleine set out to check on Raoul. She was worried about him. The first big storm is always a test. But she didn't expect to find the cabin empty. Where did he go? She thought. She walked more into the room when she noticed a small envelope on the table with a rose on top. It didn't have the addressee written on it. She took the letter out carefully and read the first sentence. The letter was meant for her.</p><p>As soon as she finished reading the letter, she felt good about it. She still didn't understand why they couldn't wait another day until the storm had passed, but at least she knew Raoul was in good hands. Whoever wrote her that letter had strong feelings for him, and it was clear that he would take very good care of him.</p><p>In her head, though, she couldn't think of anyone who the mysterious man might be. She talked to Raoul several times and he never mentioned anyone. Except for Christine, who turned him down. Nevertheless, she was delighted for him. Someone who followed him in such a powerful storm must have been crazy about him.</p><p>She wished from her heart that things would work out between them. She then put the letter away and put it in her pocket. He reads it again at home. Now, however, she had to clean up the cabin and prepare it if anyone in the de Chagny family was going to return.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Guardian angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eric and Raoul rode slowly. It was still raining so much that they couldn't see the road and there was mud everywhere and they didn't want to slip. After a long journey, when Raoul stopped hoping they would get out, a faint light appeared before them. They went to him immediately. That light meant there was a town across from them. And that meant shelter from the storm. Erik knew this place very well.</p><p>Once inside the village, they found the nearest inn, which also offered a sleepover, and checked in. Eric bought them a single room with one single bed. Raoul didn't like that very much. He wanted to buy his own room, but the phantom wouldn't let him.</p><p>Raoul had to stay in his room while Eric went to get food. Subsequently, he returned with a tray of the best this little pub had to offer and a bottle of wine. It wasn't his favourite, but not that he could complain.</p><p>When the rain finally stopped, they decided to take a little walk around town. Raoul just wanted some fresh air. He needed to clear his head and organize his thoughts about Eric. During this journey, his behaviour had changed considerably. He was rather nice to him, that is when he overlooks the occasional remark about him.</p><p>Eric walked beside the Viscount, leading the way around the city as if he knew the place. This was also true, and Eric wanted to show Raoul something. A fairly important place for him that he thought he would never forget. He led the way around a long high wall and park until they reached a deserted spot on the very edge of the village. It was a graveyard. And with the weather still, no better, the cemetery was more sombre and spooky than usual.</p><p>„What are we doing here?” Raoul asked, finding the whole idea of a visit strange. Eric was silent and instead led him through rows of graves to the very centre, where there was a statue of an angel with its arms stretched out in front of it as if it had held something in the past. A book, for example, but there was none left, and so the statue had only its bare, outstretched hands.</p><p>It was in front of the statue that Eric stopped and looked at her with an expression of grief. Raoul had never seen him like this. In fact, he had never seen any expression on him other than his love of music, when he seemed genuinely happy and menacing, a look that would have frightened even the bravest man.</p><p>„This is exactly where I fell when I was thrown out of the heaven,” the phantom said sadly after a moment of silence.</p><p><em>Again with the heaven and angels thing,</em> Raoul thought. He still didn't want to believe the story. Heaven was certainly a metaphor for something else.<br/>„Aren't you exaggerating a bit?” he asked sceptically. Eric looked at him and was like an open book, all emotion on the surface. Without any of the masks, he normally wore to hide his true pain.</p><p>„Not a bit. I was thrown out of heaven for my love of human music. You can't even imagine the monotony of harps being played there. It would drive one crazy. When I got kicked out, it hurt, but it was also liberating. I could finally play my own music. Unfortunately, the fall did affect me. Not just on my wings, but on my face. Believe me, I didn't look like this before.</p><p>After all that, I travelled a piece of Earth in search of the right music. I spent time in the Middle East, too. I could even help build a palace there. It was indeed fun to watch the Princess herself enjoy my torture toys,” and his gaze darkened slightly. Raoul listened carefully, and here he grew slightly nervous.</p><p>„When I wasn't bound by heaven, I could do whatever I wanted, but even there it wasn't the right thing. After a while, I had to go on the road again and I ended up in Paris. The opera house was still being built, so I took advantage of that and had a house built under her basement. It was subsequently deleted from the plans, so no one knew about it.</p><p>Then, after a long time, Christine appeared with her amazing voice, which the angels could only envy. I thought what I felt for her was what you people call it? Oh, love. But I was wrong. Then you started meddling, and I found out... that I cared about you. Obviously, it was selfish of me, but I didn't want to be separated from you...” his voice was weak, barely audible.</p><p>Raoul had to admit that his words had touched him. The man next to him was suddenly so vulnerable. Before he knew what he had done, he was hugging the phantom. Eric was as taken aback as he was.</p><p>„What are you doing?” he asked incredulously, not knowing what to do with his hands.<br/>„You'd better stop talking before I change my mind,” he replied, hugging him a moment longer. Eric did as he was told, giving him a gentle hug as well, resting his head lightly.</p><p>After a while, they pulled away from each other, red-faced, and decided to head back to the inn. This was awkward enough for one day. Eric again led the way, of course. He knew about the shortcut and they wanted to get back to the inn as soon as possible, so they took a side aisle.</p><p>
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</p><p>„Well, well, what have we here?” said a voice behind them. The two of them turned and saw that two men had cut off the back road. When they looked back at their exit, that, too, was already blocked.<br/>„<span>Merde</span>,” Raoul swore.<br/>„Looks like you're in luck today. What if you paid us and nothing happened to you?” one of the men asked.<br/>„Why don't you just let us go?” asked Eric, all good mood was gone, his eyes shining gold.<br/>„I don't think so. A good trick with the eyes, but either you give us all your money or we'll kill you,” another man spat at him.</p><p>Eric then nodded to Raoul as if he were signalling before lunging at the man in front of him. He simply knocked them down, knocking the breath out of them with that unexpected blow and superhuman strength. Raoul threw himself at the other two, too. But he wasn't so lucky, and one of the men stabbed him in the chest. Eric immediately went to his aid. Easily rid of his enemies, he knelt beside the wounded Viscount. The knife went quite deep and hit a few organs. He was bleeding badly.</p><p>„Come on, you can't die now,” and tried to press the wound. He'd never done anything like this before, so he was groping in the dark to keep it from getting worse.<br/>„Don’t worry. I don’t feel like dying tonight,” he replied, trying to sit up, but Eric stopped him. He knew he shouldn't move it too much. He checked the wound thoroughly before seeing what he should do.<br/>„It's going to hurt now, just hold on,” he said gently, pulling the knife from his body. It was a quick, flawless move.</p><p>He then put his hand on the wound and concentrated. His eyes shone gold again, and his wings appeared on his back. He concentrated on all his power. It was limited on Earth, and healing was never his strong ability, but he could simply sacrifice his own immortality to heal him. And he did. He traded his immortality for his man to live on. The wound on Raoul's chest filled with gold and closed in on itself. There was no scar.</p><p>After all this, he took Raoul in his arms and carried him to the inn, where he laid him in bed in their room. The Viscount was still as pale as death. His eyes were closed and his forehead was sweating. He wanted to go get him food and drink. He'll need it. But when he wanted to leave, Raoul took his hand.</p><p>„Don't go,” he said weakly.<br/>„You should get some rest.”<br/>„Then come to me,” he felt a strange urge to be near him.<br/>„I'd rather not. Try to sleep.”<br/>„Please,” and pulled him to his bed.</p><p>Eric was completely taken aback. Today, Raoul was full of surprises. He pulled him close, buried his face in his chest, and hugged him so he couldn't escape. Subsequently, within minutes, he was asleep.</p><p>The following morning, when Raoul was feeling better, they resumed their journey straight to Paris. Eric had traded his horse for a proper carriage to make the ride less difficult for the Viscount. In Paris, he subsequently dropped Raoul off in front of his house, and he himself returned to the opera house through a side door. No one seemed to notice his departure.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. My Angel</h2></a>
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    <p>A few days later, when things had returned to relative quiet at the opera, Eric sent Raoul an invitation to visit him at his house under the opera. Raoul immediately accepted the invitation but tried to appear disinterested.</p><p>„What do you want?” he asked the phantom when he finally got to his house.<br/>„I'm glad you came,” he replied, moving closer to him.<br/>„What is it?”<br/>„Can't I just want to spend some time with you?” and moved closer to him.<br/>„Then you just have to say it, don't you?” he murmured.</p><p>„That wouldn't be fun... and I wanted to show you something. I know you still don't believe me. Now I'm going to convince you,” he said, taking a step back and concentrating on his wings. This time his eyes didn't glow. Curious, Raoul walked over and examined the unfamiliar wings. He walked around it, still feeling as if he were dreaming.</p><p>„May I?” he asked from behind. Eric, of course, knew what he was asking, so he let him. The Viscount reached out and touched his good wing lightly with his fingertips. It was so soft. He was afraid to touch the other so as not to hurt him further.</p><p>„You were telling the truth,” he said, amazed. With that, Eric turned to face him.<br/>„I can't lie,” he said weakly, touching his mask. Another revelation he wanted to make. „I am disgusting,” he said as he pulled off his mask to reveal a scarred face. He looked down as he did so, unable to meet the viscount's eyes.<br/>„That's not true,” Raoul countered, trying not to stare too hard at his exposed face. Instead of words, Eric took the hand he had burned a few days earlier and kissed it. There was no more scar. All the injuries healed that night.<br/>„I can't cure myself,” he whispered.</p><p>Raoul withdrew his hand and tucked one restless strand of hair behind his ear. This was all too unusual for a phantom. He should cheer him up. So he decided to take a rather risky step. He moved closer. He took his good cheek and leaned closer. He was so close that their lips met and they kissed for the first time. The phantasm shuddered under his touch. Their kiss was brief, but it meant a lot. Raoul pulled away again and stared into his eyes. Eric was red as a tomato. This was his first proper kiss. A kiss on the forehead or hand was nothing compared to this.</p><p>„You know, I haven't been able to thank you properly for saving me in that village,” he said seductively. „None of this would have happened otherwise because of you," he said. That hurt Eric slightly. „But I'm glad for it,” he smiled, and before the phantom could respond, his lips were pressed against his.</p><p>This kiss was much more passionate, and Eric felt more greedy. No longer afraid to touch Raoul, he hugged him closer. They pulled away after both were gasping for breath. Even now Eric was red-faced and had no idea how to look.</p><p>„I have to admit, I'm beginning to like this new look of yours,” Raoul teased, but he meant it with complete sincerity.<br/>„Don't talk too much before I lose control,” he said, trying to take control of the situation. Raoul didn't give him much room for that, though.<br/>„Exactly my intention,” he purred, pulling him closer. Now it was Eric's turn to lead them, through a shower of little kisses, into the bedroom. He had this foreboding that that was where it was all headed.</p><p>Raoul was usually careful about such things, but today? He was courageous today and he wasn't going to stop. Knowing that such was Eric's weakness, he was about to turn it to his advantage and finally have some control over the famed phantom.</p><p>Although it was quite difficult in all that passion to get all his layers of clothing out of Eric. Especially when this man wears his heavy cloak at home. When he finally got on his shirt, exposing the phantom's chest, he was in for another surprise. A perfectly sculpted chest that framed the outlines of muscles. He'd never have thought he'd come across something like this. Especially since he almost always saw him sitting.</p><p>„Wow, and you say you're disgusting? Nonsense,” he marvelled at his perfect body. This completely overshadowed the imperfection on his face. Now he wanted to touch it all the more. He intended to do so when Eric took his hand. Raoul looked into his eyes and saw another new emotion. Fear.</p><p>„Nothing to worry about,” he smiled at him, leaning closer.<br/>„If you say so,” and kissed his hand. It was his own expression of affection.<br/>„Let yourself be led for a while. What do you think?” didn't sound like much of a question. With that, Raoul took the little remainder of the lead and introduced Eric to a new world of pleasure.</p><p>When they fell asleep in each other's arms, neither of them had ever known they would end up like this. Especially when Eric first got to know him and had the urge to get rid of him. Now he was glad with all his heart. For Raoul led him to a whole new heaven today.</p><p>Even Raoul had never dreamed of such a thing. He dreamed of many things, but never of falling in love with a man, or even spending the night with him. Now he had a fallen angel, who apparently had no intention of letting him go after today.</p><p>Especially when he knew the escape was impossible. Even if he wanted to, he has now chained him to him for the rest of his life. His thoughts led to, what if he pissed him off again, like when he proposed to Christine? Would he kill him?</p><p>Eric was already asleep, while Raoul was still thinking. As if sensing his discomfort, he drew him closer to him in his sleep. The Viscount decided it was no longer worth thinking about. He wouldn't have found out much anyway.</p><p>
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</p><p>The next day they slept much longer than they were used to. They were awakened by the first rehearsal, which spread throughout the opera. Raoul was the first to wake up. He was all dishevelled and a heap of limbs. He sat up wearily and rubbed his eyes before looking around the room, which was in chaos. Clothes scattered, a few things tumbled. In fact, he wondered if they had been hurt. Eric was still asleep, his good face up. Raoul leaned over him and studied his face. He really wasn't ugly, come to think of it.</p><p>As he studied it, Eric finally woke up, too. He squinted his blue eyes at the Viscount, wondering whether it was a dream or hell itself. If he hadn't sunk any lower, this was his punishment.</p><p>„Hi,” Raoul said. Eric raised his hand and lightly stroked his cheek. It wasn't a dream. It was real.<br/>„Hi,” if it works, he'll love this new life very soon.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Angelic Talent</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Since then, their relationship has improved significantly. They were no longer at each other's throats in public, although they were very often heckled. At first, they didn't want to tell anyone about their relationship. Especially since their time was highly critical of such relationships. <br/>A week later, Christine revealed them immediately. They covered it up pretty well, but she didn't miss a thing, and she could guess what had happened. She promised not to tell anyone. Why would she do that? She was so happy for them.<br/>Raoul began to spend even more time at the opera than before, and it also happened that he slept over at Eric's house. He even had to go home to avoid attracting attention. His brother only laughed at his behaviour. He thought his younger brother had finally found a lady and was spending time with her, but he was not far off the mark with those thoughts.</p><p>A year later, Raoul finally moved into the lake house beneath the opera. At first, he objected, as he wished he could move into a house that belonged to his family, but it was too much of a risk for the phantom. He wanted to keep his existence a secret, to be a ghost story for children, and most of all to be as close to the opera as possible. And there was nothing Raoul could do about it. And believe him, because he tried. He cajoled him, threatened him, tried to negotiate with him, compromised, but it was all in vain. It's like he's talking to a rock. So he had no choice but to move in with him.<br/>And although he didn't want to, he settled in pretty quickly. Perhaps because he had already half-lived there before. But now he had no excuse to return home. Now he was home there. Eric was also much more open in his presence than before.<br/>Once he even bared his wings and asked Raoul to help care for them. He hadn't done that much before, since setting his back was very dangerous. Especially someone of his reputation. To do this sooner, Raoul would surely stab him in the back just to get rid of him. Now he was more than willing to help. Eric showed him how to do it at first, and advised him continuously, but Raoul found out very soon. Where to reach, what feather to pluck, that sort of thing. Eric seemed to melt under his touch.<br/>Sometime after Raoul moved in, Eric began to hear someone singing in his neighbourhood. And it wasn't just singing. To his sensitive ears, it sounded absolutely heavenly. He'd heard it underground, in the corridors of the opera, and couldn't tell who it came from. Every time he started following it and thought he'd finally find out who it was that sings so beautifully it all goes quiet. How many times had he been annoyed when, close to the finish, his trail evaporated? But he wasn't just going to give up. He'll find that mysterious voice, whoever it was.<br/>He'd been trying like that for a month, without success. <br/>Once, walking around his opera house, he heard the voice again. As quietly as he could, he followed him down the corridor to a very familiar place. There was a rehearsal at the opera, so there weren't many strangers. He followed the voice to his own box. No one had access there but him and Raoul. Could it be Raoul? He thought. That was impossible. He couldn't sing, could he? He couldn't really know. He had never heard the viscount sing. But now he would find out.<br/>He opened the door as quietly as he could and closed it behind him again. Fortunately, the singing was not over. It sounded like the unknown singer was singing the same song his Christine had sung in rehearsal. The voice wasn't that good, and rather sang it to himself, but it was still very sweet to his ear. He couldn't wait to finally meet him. He drew back the curtain that separated him from his goal and didn't trust his senses. Directly in front of him was his Raoul. He stood with his back to him, leaning against the railing, watching the rehearsal and singing the opera tune.<br/>Eric took a step forward, but Raoul stopped. As if sensing his presence, he turned to the phantom.<br/>„Eric,” he said, smiling at him as if nothing had happened. „Are you going to see the rehearsal, too?” He asked.<br/>„No,” he replied simply, moving closer. "Why didn't you ever tell me you could sing so nicely?" he asked.<br/>„What? I can't sing. Christine's the one with the talent,” he said simply.<br/>„That's not true. I heard you. It might take a little practice, but otherwise? You have an absolutely charming voice.”<br/>„Now you're exaggerating. You're just saying that because you like me.”<br/>„I wouldn't say that, you were breathtaking,” but none of his praises was successful. <br/>Plus, it seemed like Raoul didn't even want to talk about it. He slipped past him with the excuse of having to go to Christine. This completely dismissed the subject. But the phantom would not give up. If he had given up, he wouldn't be with Raoul now.</p><p>A few days later, since he discovered his Viscount had a gift. Raoul was just making lunch when Eric hugged him from behind. <br/>„Sing to me, please,” he begged as gently as he could.<br/>„I'd rather not,” he replied and kept working.<br/>„Please.”<br/>„No.”<br/>After this, Raoul turned to face him.<br/>„I said no, and I won't change my mind. I don't like to sing in front of anyone. I have no talent and I don't want to listen to you complain,” he replied crisply.<br/>„But...” he could not even say, for the Viscount could also be very stubborn, and was now quite clear that he wouldn't sing. „As you wish,” he replied, kissing his cheek and wandering off to the opera. And in doing so, he ruined Raoul's chance for lunch together.</p><p>They didn't talk about it for the next two weeks or so, although the phantom would dearly love to talk about it. He wanted to sing a nice duet with Raoul, but he refused to talk about it. Bored, he walked around the opera, wondering what he could do to soften the viscount. But nothing solid came to mind. His footsteps took him to the opera roof. It was nice and cool. But he had no idea he would find his Raoul there. He was leaning against the railing, singing again. This time it was some kid's street song. But she was also pretty in his delivery.<br/>Eric walked over and hugged him from behind, the way he liked to do, resting his head on his shoulder. Raoul stopped singing at that point.<br/>„Don't stop, please,” the phantasm pleaded, though he guessed it was in vain. As he did so, he glanced at the spot his lover had been following. There was a small crowd of children playing happily. Raoul was quiet for a moment, and Eric thought he had lost his chance with the singing. But the Viscount resumed his song, and the phantom let him. Certainly, if he interfered in any way he would stop and he couldn't let that happen.<br/>Since then, Raoul has occasionally sung to, or even with, Eric, but these were truly exceptional and rare occasions.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Angelic gift</h2></a>
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    <p>Years later, Christine had a baby. A little girl. Raoul and Eric were godparents, and just in honour of the phantom, she named her Erika. Little Erika Daae. The Phantom was very pleased. He had no idea how to treat such a small creature.</p><p>From an early age, little Erika was babysitter by the phantom and Raoul. They were both the kindest uncles a little girl could ask for. They played with her and gave her sweets.</p><p>When she was a baby, she was predominantly held by Raoul. Eric thought he could do something to hurt her. Erika seemed so very fragile. Though Raoul knew he wished he could hold her. That's why he took his hands once, set them right, and put little Erika in them. The phantom was so moved that it seemed as if he had momentarily forgotten how to breathe.</p><p>Raoul found it very moving and endearing. Eric looked first at the baby, then at the viscount, then back at the baby. He had this silly happy smile on his face. The smile widened as Erika grasped his finger. He looked as if he was about to burst into tears.</p><p>Whenever Erika could not sleep, Christine would take her to see the phantom and the Viscount. These two were the perfect duo to put her to sleep or calm her down. Raoul cradled and rocked her while Eric sang his songs to her. Since then, he has also taken to composing lullabies and songs for young children.</p><p>Every time he sang them, little Erika would smile, and he would be moved by it, and he would be so pleased that he had to go and compose something else. Sometimes Raoul and Eric would sing to her together. Then the little girl clapped with joy and wanted more.</p><p>One day, when the little girl was bigger, her uncles watched over her as always. Erika was jumping on the bed when a phantom came to check on her, along with a small snack.</p><p>„Uncle, look at what I can do!” she called to him, jumping up and somersaulting.<br/>„Well done,” he said. Erika jumped off the bed and ran to him. She looked like she was going to say something to him, so he got down on one knee to make them equal. Instead, Erika took his mask and removed it. In the phantom, it was as if all the blood in his body had frozen. He was afraid that seeing his face would make her afraid.</p><p>„Ow,” she said sadly, looking into his eyes. „Does it hurt?” she asked, meaning his face, of course. Eric was completely taken aback by the reaction.<br/>„No, it doesn't hurt,” he replied with a faint smile. Erika leaned over and gave him a little kiss on his scarred cheek before returning the mask.<br/>„That's to make it heal faster,” she said, grinning and running after her other uncle.</p><p>
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</p><p>It was clear that the two of them were enjoying their role as good uncles the most, but Raoul also seemed to be suffering. He tried not to show it, of course, but Eric knew him well enough to see through him. So he decided to find out what was bothering his viscount.</p><p>It was one afternoon they had spent away from the opera on an exceptional basis. More specifically, in a small park near the opera house where he and little Erika used to go. The two sat on a bench and watched the children play. It was then that Eric noticed the sad look on Raoul's face.</p><p>„What's bothering you?” he asked in a low voice. Raoul looked at him, then back at the children.<br/>„Have you ever wondered what will happen to us when we die?” he asked suddenly.<br/>„And why suddenly such grim thoughts?”<br/>„It's amazing to be an uncle, but what it would be like to have your own…”<br/>„Our own little monster,” the phantom laughed. Raoul merely nudged him lightly.<br/>„Don't get me wrong. I have no regrets, and I love being with you. It's just a shame we can't make our own,” and put his head on his shoulder.</p><p>This sowed Eric's own desire for a child. What it would be like to have a child, to raise it, to teach it... He liked this idea, but as Raoul has already pointed out, two men can't conceive a child. Although there are plenty of unwanted children in the world. They could simply adopt some. Make it two so they can play together. Though that's what he should talk to Raoul about first.</p><p>
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</p><p>That same evening, while Raoul was waiting in bed, Eric shut himself in his study, where he had several reminders of his previous life in heaven. He took his old broken harp, held it to his chest, and knelt.</p><p>„I know you don't speak to me <span>anymore</span>. That you rejected me, but I'm not turning to you for me, but Raoul. A person I care deeply about...” he began to pray. He talked a lot about Raoul, about his feelings for him, and that he wanted what was best for him, and most of all, that he wanted to have a child with him. Finally, he concluded his prayer with a silent plea and returned to the Viscount in the bedroom.</p><p>He got into bed with him and Raoul moved closer to him.<br/>„If you'd like, we could adopt some,” Eric said suddenly.<br/>„What do you mean?”<br/>„A child. I know you want some. And there are so many kids in the world who don't have homes.”<br/>„Is that what you want?”<br/>„With you by my side? I'd love to.”<br/>„I like that,” Raoul replied, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. After that, the two of them went to bed. It was a quiet night, and neither of them knew what the morning would bring.</p><p>
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</p><p>That morning, as the two were set for the opera, heading for a small gondola to cross the water, they heard a child crying. They immediately followed the sound, not believing their eyes. On the edge of the lake with their house was a large knitted basket from which the crying came. When they were close enough, they noticed that there had been barely a few days old baby in it.</p><p>Raoul didn't wait a second and took it out of the small basket. There was also a letter. Eric took it and read it. As he read, he had to laugh at the end of it. For he would never have thought that Heaven would have heeded his plea.</p><p>„I'll take him in,” Raoul said and went to take care of the baby. Eric, meanwhile, took care of the basket. Maybe in the future, they'll come in handy.</p><p>By the time he reached the Viscount, the baby was in new and dry clothing. Good thing Christine left them there for Erika and forgot about them.</p><p>„It's a girl,” Raoul said, rocking the baby in his arms. That no longer cried and seemed satisfied.<br/>„What shall we call her?” asked Eric.<br/>„Do you want to keep her?”<br/>„Apparently her parents didn't want her. And I think she'll be fine with us,” he replied, looking at the little girl. She had light brown hair and blue eyes. Eric ran his finger over her hand. The little girl took his finger and seemed to smile at him. It was the nicest smile he had ever seen.</p><p>„So what shall we call her?” asked Raoul.<br/>„How about Nicolette?” he suggested.<br/>„I like that. Hello, Nicky,” he told her at once. The girl looked at him and gave him one of her toothless smiles.</p><p>And so from that day on, the house under the opera house was quite lively. Little Nicolette was a blessing, and her new dads took care of her like a little princess. It was subsequently shown to Christine and Erica, who was very happy to have a new playmate. Even if they have to wait a few more years. For now, she drives her around in a stroller and helps take care of her.</p>
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